


and it tortures slow

by callunavulgari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e07 Strange Frequencies, M/M, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do these eyes look blue?” Theo asks, and Stiles looks at him. <i>No</i>, he thinks, and almost says that he wishes they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and it tortures slow

**Author's Note:**

> This last episode made me hella mad, so I fixed it.

Stiles is a suspicious person by nature. Has been for… basically as long as he can remember. When his mom came back from her doctor’s appointment with his favorite ice cream and a shaky smile, he’d narrowed his eyes and eaten it slowly, watching her the whole time. She’d cracked before he was done with the cone, drawing in a steadying breath and letting it out on a sigh. Then she’d explained. That she was dying. That the sickness would make her think crazy things sometimes, and that whatever happened, Stiles had to remember that she would always love him.

Stiles doesn’t trust easily. He doesn’t like people about 75% of the time and has never had a major desire for a huge group of friends, because it was hard enough to find one good one.

Scott's a good one. Scott's a _great_ one, so Stiles never really needed anyone else.

Theo Raeken was an annoyance in fourth grade, just because he was someone that Stiles had to share Scott with. Stiles played horribly with others, and for two straight months he made it his mission to make Theo’s life as miserable as possible. He stole Theo’s schoolbooks, put gum on his chair, anything to make him go away. And then he did, and Stiles was happy.

Stiles sometimes let his hunches get away from him, but more often than not? Those hunches were always right on the mark. And this time, he is _not_ overreacting. The Theo Raeken currently sitting in his passenger seat is not the same Theo from fourth grade. 

There was a moment there, where Stiles thought that he might have been overreaching. That maybe Scott was right and this was just some weird vendetta thing that Stiles carried over from the fourth grade. Some weird, lingering resentment, left to fester and rot.

Only, things kept not adding up. There were bullet holes all through Theo’s story, things that just didn't make sense. 

And then, slowly, the asshole had started worming his way into the pack.

Scott was the easy part. Scott loved everyone, no matter how suspicious the timing of their arrival was. So Theo got to Scott easily enough.

He found little chinks in the packs armor and slipped himself right into them. Liam was young and naive, too trusting, Scott 2.0, so he didn’t know any better. Kira's weakness was all tangled up in Scott and her very nature, the fox under her skin too much of an unknown. Malia, Stiles can only guess about, but he’s betting it had something to do with her mother. And so far, he doesn't think that Theo's moved on to Lydia yet, but he just knows it's only a matter of time.

And now, he’s trying to get to Stiles.

Theo's a tremendous actor, really. He's definitely done his homework, so Stiles applauds him for that. He says all the right things, plays the part well, and even his backstory matches up in a weird way. Dead sister he found in the woods. The guilt. Being alone and just trying to find a pack.

He even _smells_ like him, a little bit, right down to the pretentious ass cologne that Derek had started wearing when he thought he was hot shit.

But Theo’s playing too nice to be Derek Hale.

Derek Hale didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t even trust Stiles. Not really. Maybe for a time he had, back when they were traipsing all over Beacon Hills looking for Derek’s wayward pack, but when the Darach had happened, they’d just… slipped away. Drifted apart, too bad, so sad. By the time the nogitsune showed up, that little spark between them had already gone out.

And now Derek is gone, doing who knows what, and Stiles is just… still here. Playing his part.

When Theo tells him about his sister, Stiles freezes, shuts himself off from the noise of it, the little cracks that run jagged through the story. Parallels. Smarter than everyone, pain in the ass, always looked out for me. He’s heard it all before. Never in so many words, but he’d heard it. Heard Derek confess, quietly, as they sat with their back to the pine trees, “Laura would have liked you.”

“I was the one who found her body,” Theo says, and Stiles hears, like an echo, _I found her in pieces._

“I’m telling you because even if you don’t trust me, even if you don’t like me, I’m still going to be looking out for you,” Theo tells him, quiet and earnest, and Stiles wants to hit him.

_You don’t trust me, I don’t trust you._

He’s getting it all wrong, because Derek never would have said that. Derek would have just _showed_ him.

“Do these eyes look blue?” Theo asks, and Stiles looks at him.  
  
No, he thinks.

Almost says that he wishes they were.

.

When Stiles blinks his eyes open, the taste of blood in his mouth and smoke heavy in the air, he almost believes. He sees a pair of legs in front of him, feels someone dragging him away from the danger, and for a moment, he hopes.

That’s the worst bit, that for even a fraction of a second, he’d thought—

Well, he’d _thought_.

He leaves the jeep there, smoldering in Deaton’s parking lot, and calls the dispatch while he’s getting into a cab. 

He doesn’t get through to his dad, so he hangs up. Figures that eventually someone will see the damage. Maybe Theo will do it. After all, Theo’s got his back, right?

Hah.

Stiles’ hands are shaking.

He hides them between his thighs, pretending that he doesn’t see the illusion of blood coating his fingers, and now more than ever, Stiles wants to ask Derek how he did it. How he washed the blood from his hands when it felt like the guilt was drowning him. How time and time again, he got back up, ready to take more hits. He wants to ask Derek so many things.

He just wants _Derek_.

Derek would understand. He wouldn’t trust Theo either.

The cab driver asks him where he wants to go.

Stiles tells him.

.

The loft is huge and echoingly quiet. Empty. It shouldn’t be such a shock, that the few possessions Derek picked up along the way are missing, but it is. Everything smells of dust.

Stiles sucks in a deep breath, feels the ghost of ashes settle in his lungs, and lets the spare key drop from his fingers. It bounces— once, twice, and comes to settle next to his shoe.  
  
Slowly, Stiles lets his body collapse in on itself. He slides down the wall, knees coming up to his chest.

He’s so tired.

His phone is in his hand and Stiles doesn’t know how it got there. He blinks at it, and it glows back at him, cheerfully displaying another ghost. A nickname, three syllables, all one word.

Stiles doesn’t think about it. He dials.

Three rings and someone picks up.

Stiles licks his lips. Says, “Hey, Derek.”


End file.
